


gonna keep movin'

by singmyheart (orphan_account)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, i did it i wrote the thing, national treasures and the washington monument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 10:40:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1425526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/singmyheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a good thing Steve’s getting used to people staring at him, because they do it a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	gonna keep movin'

**Author's Note:**

> just a little ficlet i wrote in five minutes inspired by the opening scene of cap 2. set sometime after the events of the movie. minor, tiny lil baby spoilers. title from (what else?) “trouble man” by marvin gaye. also available on [my tumblr.](http://womansubject.tumblr.com/post/81923867686/fic-gonna-keep-movin-captain-america-the-winter)

It’s a good thing Steve’s getting used to people staring at him, because they do it a lot. Press conferences, Starbucks, SHIELD: usually there’s at least one or two people gazing at him slack-jawed, or nudging their friends and giggling because _hey, there’s Captain America._ Sometimes these people have his face on their t-shirts. It’s a little weird. It was weird in the ‘40s, too. But he’s getting used to it.

Even on his morning run around the Mall, he’ll occasionally have other people slow down as they pass him like he’s a traffic accident. This makes no difference to him, he just warns “on your left” as he passes and waits for the _click,_ that moment when he’s running where he hits his groove, his rhythm, that perfect pace and head-space where everything but the sound of his feet and the music in his earbuds goes pleasantly quiet and falls away. Marvin Gaye helps.

Today’s pretty typical; he’d woken up early (“like, ass o’clock”, as Tony would say) and hadn’t been able to get back to sleep. The air is cool and still; it’s still half-dark. He’s thinking about a nice big breakfast when he’s finished, pancakes and bacon; and maybe he’ll call Tasha, and waiting for the _click._

He hears another pair of feet on the pavement behind him, shifts to the left on autopilot, before Sam’s voice yells “ _on your right”_ entirely too triumphantly, and the man himself flies past him. Steve chuckles and slows to a jog; thinks about what Sam’s face will look like when Steve hip-checks him into the reflecting pool on his next lap (can’t let him get too cocky). He grins to himself and decides he’ll make breakfast for three later. 


End file.
